Ugly Duckling
by ohcurliehair
Summary: She had always felt like the ugly duckling in high school. Cal/Gillian.


Ok so while I was on a bit of a writing streak I figured I'd write something new. It's only short but it's dedicated to anyone who at anytime has read any of my stories. _Thank you_ :)

Lie to Me= no ownership

'_I need to know the story...'_

She had always been the nerd in primary school. The girl with the skirt far too long and her buttons done up far too high. Her hair in piggy tails. The girl who everyone sat next to, not because they were her friends, but because they knew she always got the right answers in tests.

She had always felt like the ugly duckling in high school. Never pretty enough to be in the popular group. To have someone ask her to school dances. Even in her prom dress she felt plain, boring. Like she could stand there and go unnoticed by all.

In college she felt like she had began to find her place. Maybe. But even then, she was never invited to parties. She spent her Saturday nights alone in her dorm room, book in hand.

But not having that many friends, turned out to be a blessing. For her career anyway. She spent her time people watching, learning to read facial expressions. The devastation on a girl's face, cleverly hidden, when she finds that her best friend is dating her crush. The disgust on a guy's face when he finds out his girlfriend is cheating on him. None of it visible to the average human being. That one twitch or tiny muscle contraction that says everything a person isn't willing to articulate into words.

Her confidence had always stemmed from her intelligence. Not that she didn't have the looks. It's just that she didn't go around flaunting her, _assets_. She was more conservative than that. And apparently that's not what guys wanted. Even today, with a great job, nice house, fabulous clothing, there was still those times where she would have a flashback and feel awkward all over again. When she would walk past a window and catch her reflection. Or when she was working a case and it would lead to someone she could never be. Like Poppy.

But then there were days like today, nights like the one she was currently in. As she frantically looked through her wardrobe for something to wear. Anything. Remembering back to when Cal had told her earlier that day that they were going out that night. Apparently she was his date to some awards ceremony. It had been dropped in the conversation like it was nothing. Oh hey, how's you paper work, by the way you're my date for an awards ceremony I've been invited to. But to her it was something. It wasn't just about the fact that Cal had chosen to invite her. Even though the thought bought butterflies to her stomach. But they were best friends and so it made perfect sense. It was more about the feelings and emotions it bought back. Remembering all those times in primary school. High school. College.

Just at that moment the doorbell rang. Cursing she spared another glance at her useless closet before walking to the front door in her robe. She tentatively opened it. There stood a delivery man, a bored expression on his face.

'Can I help you?'

'I'm looking for a Gillian Foster?'

He held out the box he was holding.

'Sign here.'

She stared at the box curiously for a few moments before she decided to close the door and find out what was inside. As she lifted off the lid a piece of paper fluttered to the ground.

'_For the queen of my heart_.'

She felt her brow fur in confusion. It was Cal's writing, there was no doubt in her mind. But it still made no sense. It was also incredibly cheesy which was one thing Cal was _not_. She slowly folded back the wrapping which was covering her, _whatever it was_. And inside was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

She could feel the cool silk over her skin as she stepped into the dress. Pulling it up, it fit like a glove.

She gasped again when she saw her reflection. It was her dream dress. Literally. In high school she had designed a dress, it was everything she had ever wanted. She had never got it of course. Instead she had worn a hideous mustard yellow frock. It was at that point she had realized she could never pull off frills. But this one, this one was _it._ A red, one-shouldered gown with detailing embroidered from the shoulder to the floor. It had just the right amount of, _poof_. She didn't know how Cal had done it, but he had managed to pull something off she had never expected.

And as she stood there, Cal on one arm, her clutch bag in the other, she felt _weird_. The good kind of weird. People stopped to compliment her on her gown, her hair, her bag, her shoes.

She felt Cal lean over and his breathe tickled her neck as he whispered in her ear.

'I always told you, you were never an ugly duckling.'


End file.
